(AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm discovering that I learn just as much about our characters through writing of their adventures as through roleplaying in-game. Many thanks to Karuna for sharing a "fun fact" with me. I made up the book he's reading.)
CHAPTER SEVEN: THE ORC: YOU WOULDN'T UNDERSTAND
At the Restoration Corps Compound
Nothing makes me prouder than slaying enemies. My kin are born and bred for it. Battle is the cornerstone of our lives, the foundation of any clan, even a roaming one. That's what the others don't fully understand.
Killian comes close. The One from Below hates Red Wizards with every sinew in his muscles, and aims to crush them without delay. We are brothers in this, if not in blood. It took some time for me to come to terms with this, as he is part-fiend and not orc at all. Still, his bow and rapier proved themselves, and that is how he proved himself. He is cold, ruthless, unburdened by weaknesses like mercy and forgiveness.
Why is our leader burdened? I know he has been chosen by his god. I know his god preaches such things. I do not know why he must love the Thayans, at least as fellow beings, instead of hate them. In terms of his faith, it makes sense to give coin to beggars and food to the hungry. I do not begrudge him this. What I begrudge him is his hidden desire to let our enemies live. They'll only attack us again, and what will Nevard's kindness have brought us but death? Even if suffering makes you strong, martyrdom is foolish.
Let's hope the green one, the Cave Woman Tah-tee, quickly comes to realize this. She has a kind of strength in her, even though it comes from a broken mind and a guardian spirit. Was it fear or madness that led her to question that Red Wizard on the grounded ship, instead of kill him outright? He never would have told us more about the dead who walk, no matter what she thinks. For all we know, he raised them with his dark magic. Something else on that haunted island could have done it, but did we find it? No. If you ask me, she should have stayed a slave. Life makes no sense to her outside the Red Wizards' tower. I can tell.
I can also tell the leaders of Delthuntle are fools. They begged us for more than our contract said. Orcs never beg. They either fight or die. For the most part, they also keep promises, as I do. Even those below me know my word is my bond. If they perform well, they'll be rewarded, not betrayed. I wonder: How many times has Tah-tee's master backstabbed her, twisting her spirit more than any evil art? If she would have served me, she'd have been far better off. How many people has Killian turned against? His kind find it as natural as mine find war. Nevard? He'd rather be stuck on a spear than thrust it into someone else's spine.
Hnnnrrrrh. Even thinking about that makes my heart pump faster, my muscles tense, and my mouth water.
I'm not in the mood for training, though. I've done so this morning. Now it's time for...other study:
Scalp Etchings of the Red Wizards: Sanguine, Imbued, Metallic, Runic, and Esoteric
"Soulseer?" asks a woman's voice. "May I speak with you for a moment?"
Shit! I thrust the rectangular object in my hand behind my back. "What is it? I'm very busy."
"Our skirmish against the zombies taught me I'd better hone my combat skills. Will you spar with me?"
"No. I don't mean to offend, but I only spar with orcs, whether as teachers or as students."
The Cave Woman pauses. "Your dedication to your kin is far fiercer than mine. However, why not?"
"There are plenty of others who can train you. You wouldn't understand."
She doesn't flinch, but I can see a trace of hurt in her eyes. "Being an orc? Nay. Thrusting a spear? Aye."
"Let me be, Tah-tee."
"Very well." She turns, and then looks behind her. "Before I go, however, what's that behind your back?"
"Nothing of interest."
"Is it something that might help us deal with our current enemies?"
Despite myself, I flash my tusks in a slight grin. "It always is."
"Good." She walks away, leaving me alone once more. I slip into an ill-used storage room in our compound, and lock the door. I have the feeling that she's seen me reading, or at least carrying a book upon my person. Most of my kind do not. In fact, I'm one of the sole orcs around here who can. The former slaves and mercenaries we've hired don't know their letters. Nor would they care. Why do I? I'll keep that to myself, at least for the moment. I don't have the obligation to divulge any part of my life to curious folks I've barely met. I'm not a beast in a zoo. Even among my own people, no one has the right to strip me of what's mine.
With that, I clutch the book tighter in my hands as I sit down to read. All the wicked mages are done for...
Besides their scarlet robes, scalp etchings are the most common way to distinguish Red Wizards. The five discussed in this volume are also the most common. By category, they are:
Sanguine – Blood tattoos, inked with preservative coagulants to keep them from washing away.
Imbued – Red Wizards who follow the gods often have their markings infused with their deity's power.
Metallic – Naturally, these are etched out of powdered and liquefied ores. Only elders have these.
Runic – The most common type of scalp tattoo, signifying a Red Wizard's school of magic.
Esoteric – The most dangerous and painful of etchings to bear, this is carved all the way down through the scalp into the bone of the skull, letting glowing ether shine through the designs. This allows the Red Wizard to focus mana like no other, although at a cost to his body and soul all at once. The more that esoteric markings are utilized, the weaker the Wizard becomes, unless he or she is a master arcanist.
A shudder ripples down my spine at this last paragraph. I've never seen a Thayan's skull glow like a lantern, letting its light shine through ley lines of focus. How I'd love to smash one with my trusty warhammer!
Regardless of which etching a Red Wizard bears, know this: It is absolutely lethal. None have the sheer amount of single-minded dedication to the arcane arts than the Thayans do, for good reason. Other practitioners of magic are also husbands, wives, brothers, sisters, and members of society.
Red Wizards are not. They've formed their own, and they seek to dominate all others.
"Yes." I murmur this word to the empty air, filled with the scents of dry lumber and stored grain.
They seek to enslave us all, orc or not. If you don't understand this, Restoration Corps, you know naught.
